


A Carnation Situation

by Car



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fluff and Humor, Fundraisers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-IT (2017), Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Car/pseuds/Car
Summary: And Richie loathes that he's so attuned to Eddie that he can easily read between his words. Even more than that, he loathes that he knows this and has the desire and power to do something about it, but knows that he wont, because at the end of the day, he's nothing but a coward; able to smash a killer clown in the face with a baseball bat, but can't buy a cute boy afucking flower.A coward, but a smart coward nonetheless, because he may just have an idea.Time for the ol' Tozier special: When in doubt, make it a joke.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 14
Kudos: 144





	A Carnation Situation

**Author's Note:**

> Happy February, everyone!! I actually finished this back in like, the beginning of January, but I waited until now to post it, so it wouldn't be too obscenely early. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> Ps. There are way more words that rhyme with carnation than I realized lol

"Who's that for, Bucky Beaver? Your _boyfriend?_ "  
  


Richie's grip on the stem of the pink carnation tightens ever so slightly, meeting Greta's smirking leer over his glasses with one of his own. "Nah, your mom, actually." he says with a grin, tossing the carnation back on the table. "Thought she deserved something nice for the fine blowie she gave me last weekend."  
  


Someone behind Richie in line snorts, but Greta's eyes narrow even more, her lips curling up into a snarl. "Fuck off, loser," she snaps, and Richie happily flips her the bird and returns back to his locker, hanging his head in defeat once he's out of sight.  
  


Welp. So much for _that_ plan.   
  


Down the hall, immediately catching his gaze as usual, Eddie is balancing three of his textbooks precariously on top of each other as he goes to close his locker door with his ass, only for them to topple almost immediately as someone shoulders him as they walk by. He shouts something at the other student that Richie can't hear over the sound of the hallway, but the other student obviously doesn't care enough to stop and dignify him with a response, so Eddie bites back a pout as his cheeks flush slightly and gathers up his things once again, grumbling angrily to himself all the while.  
  


_God_ , Richie likes him so _fucking_ much.  
  


It should be simple, buying the little turd a stupid Valentine's Day fundraiser carnation. Literally the whole eighth grade is doing it for each other like the hormonal little messes they are. Fuck, he doesn't even have to write his own name if he doesn't want to, he can send it anonymously.  
  


(And he _doesn'_ t want to, he reminds himself stubbornly. This is about letting Eddie know how much someone out there likes him and making him happy. Even if he never finds out it was Richie all along. That's the _point_ , numbnuts, _stop it_. _Stop_ thinking about you being the one Eddie would direct that rare, sweet, shy little smile of his towards as he blushes adorably once he gets the stupid flower.  


_Stop fucking_ thinking about it.)  
  


"Were you thinking of getting someone a carnation, Richie?" Ben asks, having wandered over sometime while Richie was mentally berating himself apparently.   
  


Richie tears his eyes away from Eddie to roll them at Ben, shoving his book back into his locker with a little more force than he intended. "Pfft, what? No. Why would I waste my money on something stupid and sappy like that?"  
  


"I dunno," Ben hums, blushing a little. "I was thinking of getting one for myself and sending it to Beverly, you know? As a surprise for Valentine's?"  
  


Richie frowns at that, knowing Ben is fully aware that they haven't heard back from Bev in months, but who is he to squash Ben's unrealistic, unobtainable hopes and dreams? Not when he has more than enough of those himself. He closes his locker and sighs dramatically. "Ah shucks. And here I thought I was the only woman for you, Haystack," he drawls loudly in his southern belle voice. "Mah Pa is gonna be so ashamed I failed to bring me home a man once again, ah do declare!"  
  


"Oh god, what's he on about now?" Eddie grumbles, still juggling his books around awkwardly in his arms as Bill and Stan join them seconds later, Bill already laughing as Richie drapes himself all over Ben, and Stan rolling his eyes primly at the display.   
  


"Just talking— _Richie, stop_! Just talking about the carnation fundraiser," Ben explains, wiggling away from Richie finally, laughing.   
  


Eddie looks alert and interested at that for all of two seconds before a look of put-on disgust takes over, his nose scrunching up cutely. "Ugh," he scoffs. "This is why I hate Valentine's Day, my allergies always go fuckin' nuts with all that stupid pollen all over the place."  
  


And Richie loathes that he's so attuned to Eddie that he can easily read between his words, knowing that Eddie's allergies are a load of shit, and it's not the pollen that always put him in a bad mood during the holiday, but the lack of attention he receives that's really the problem. Even more than that, he loathes that he knows this and has the desire and power to do something about it, but knows that he wont, because at the end of the day, he's nothing but a fucking coward; able to smash a killer clown in the face with a baseball bat, but can't buy a cute boy a _fucking flower_.  
  


A coward, but a smart coward nonetheless, because thanks to his little conversation with Greta earlier, he may just have an idea.  
  


Time for the ol' Tozier special: When in doubt, make it a joke.  
  


"That's a shame, Eds," he sighs. "Especially since you're going to end up having to carry around the whole giant bouquet I get for your mom."  
  


Eddie's head snaps over to Richie, his mouth already hanging open in anticipation of an incoming rant. Richie inwardly delights at the sight.  
  


_Bingo_.  
  


"Don't you _fucking dare_ , Richie!" he cries. "Do not even _think_ about ordering flowers for my _mom!_ "  
  


"But Eddie," he sings, all innocent and sugary sweet. "How else am I supposed to show her my appreciation for the lovely and sexy evening we have planned?"  
  


"Alright, I'm out of here," Stan says tiredly. "I'm meeting up with Mike after school and we're going to the clubhouse, so I'll see you guys later if you want to come. Eddie, try not to kill Richie yet, I need him to help me with the science homework first."  
  


"No promises," Eddie grumbles, but gives Richie a playful little elbow to the side, which Richie happily returns, careful as to not topple his books again. "C'mon Ben, let's get to class."  
  


"See ya later, guys," Ben says with a wave, shaking his head in amusement and following behind a now ranting and twitchy Eddie. Richie can't help but grin.   
  


Bill, raising an eyebrow and falling into step beside him, grins as they head in the direction of their shared study hall. "Are you ruh-really going to buy Eddie's m-mom flowers, Rich?" he asks, like he doesn't already know the answer.   
  


"Hm, doesn't sound like me," he says with a grin. "Hold up, Big Bill, gotta make a pit-stop real quick."  
  


And Bill laughs as Richie steps up to an annoyed looking Greta Keene at the fundraising table once again, a crisp five dollar bill in hand.  
  


And that probably should have ended it, if not for the fact that that first year, after the flowers had been delivered and Eddie had glared at Richie from across the classroom with the intensity of a thousand suns, Richie had caught the faintest of smiles on Eddie's lips when he let his guard down enough to drop the annoyed act and tenderly sniff at one of the little carnations, not realizing Richie has seen him do it.   
  


And well, predictably, it becomes a _thing_ , after that. After going home and screaming into his pillow about it for a bit, Richie is _addicted_. Pouring his poor prepubescent, lovesick heart out year after year by sending Eddie flowers under the guise of them being for the _lovely_ Mrs. Kaspbrak just to see him smile (and get all huffy and worked up, which is somehow even _better_ ), up until the Toziers move away during junior year, and it never, ever, no matter _what_ Stan and Eddie say, gets old.  
  


But that was then, this was now.  
  


"I'm sorry, Mr. Tozier, one more time," his assistant, Ashlyn, says slowly, peeking up from the notebook where she is writing down his detailed instructions. "You want me to send twenty-seven carnations to, _whom_ , now?"  
  


Richie nods, knowing he is grinning like an idiot, but is too excited to care. "My buddy Eddie, I'll get you his address in a sec, but make sure you make the card out to Sonia Kaspbrak."  
  


Ashlyn looks, understandably, confused. "Oh," she squeaks out. "Okay. That's...Is that—?"  
  


"No, no, no, Sonia died like, a long time ago," he explains, not helping his case at all as Ashlyn looks more and more horrified as the second tick by. "It's an inside joke," he finally settles on, but Ashlyn is already giving him a nervous little thumbs up and scurrying away, so Richie makes a mental note to talk to Steve about giving her a raise next time he actually answers one of his calls.   
  


"Aw Rich, _really?_ The woman is _dead_. Beep- _beep_ ," Mike sighs from where he had been hanging out and eavesdropping on his FaceTime call, shaking his head but grinning. "Do you _really_ think it's a good idea to break out that whole thing again? He never thought that was funny when she was _alive_."  
  


"He never _admitted_ to thinking it was funny," Richie explains, beaming back, but Mike just continues shaking his head and laughing to himself. "Besides, it's a Valentine's Day tradition! You'll fucking see, dude."  
  


"I'll _see_ him call you an asshole," Mike snorts, and Richie laughs along with him. "For real though," he continues, leveling Richie with a knowing and somewhat condescending look, "you're forty years old, man. Maybe it's time to actually send the guy some flowers addressed to him and not his dead, abusive mother."  
  


Richie waves Mike and his mature, logical thinking away, but if his gaze lingers in the direction of where Ashlyn went off with his instructions, well, that was no one's business but his own.  
  


O  
  


"I hate this holiday."

"You do not. Are you wearing the 'Love Birds' tie?"  
  


Glancing down warily, Eddie sighs, the pink and red, heart-and-bird-covered monstrosity that Stan and Patty had sent him and all the Losers resting against his chest mockingly. "Yes."  
  


Bev tut-tuts at him through his bluetooth earbud just as he reaches his building, ducking inside with a grateful nod to the doorman and relishing at the warmer temperature. "And it doesn't put you in the mood for romance? It put _Ben_ in the mood for romance," she sighs wistfully, as Eddie openly gags.  
  


"It puts me in the mood to throw up," he offers, making Bev scoff. "I just don't _like_ Valentine's Day, Bev!" he insists, striding quickly to the elevator and pressing the button to go up to his floor. "Myra always insisted she didn't want anything so she could make me feel like a jackass for not getting her anything, and the chocolate is always cheap and gross and chalky, and don't even get me _started_ on what roses do to my allergies—"  
  


"You don't _have_ allergies, sweetie."  
  


"—and somehow being single makes it all even fucking worse!" The elevator opens with a ding, and Eddie steps inside, relieved to be making the trip up to the seventeenth floor alone. "Well, worse in general, but better than with Myra at least. Small miracle."  
  


Bev hums pleasantly, the sound of a smile in her tone. "You don't _have_ to be single, you know. You're divorced, not dead."  
  


Eddie rolls his eyes. "The men of Manhattan disagree."  
  


"What about the lads of Los Angeles?" she purrs as Eddie's face flushes hot. "Or one lad in particular, maybe? A tall lad who works in comedy with broad shoulders and a sharp jaw and dorky-yet-weirdly-sexy glasses that I'm totally not naming so you can’t be mad at me?"  
  


"I hate you."  
  


"No you don't."  
  


"I'm never telling you anything again."  
  


"Yes you will."  
  


Eddie steps out of the elevator and starts toward his office, opening his mouth to disagree spiritedly and remind Bev that he has a strict, self-imposed no-Richie rule for today (for his own sanity; this weird little crush he has been redeveloping on Richie is getting out of _fucking_ hand), and that she is knowingly breaking this, when a throat clears behind him and cuts him off.   
  


"Uh, Mister Kaspbrak?"  
  


Eddie blinks, spinning around and meeting the eyes of his secretary, Lucy, with a raised eyebrow. "Yes?" he asks.  
  


Lucy looks positively delighted, and Eddie thinks, suddenly nauseous, that he has a very bad feeling about this. "You have a _delivery_ , sir," she tells him, practically vibrating in excitement. "I left it on your desk."  
  


"I do? Oh, okay, thanks, Lucy," he mumbles, apprehensive, then, angrily into his headset, "Bev, did you fucking send me something?"  
  


"Wasn't me, I swear," she insists. "Must have been a secret admirer! What is it?"  
  


"I don't know yet, I'm almost at my office. And it's not a fucking secret admirer!" he sighs, rolling his eyes and ignoring the way his heartbeat increases as he nears his office door. "I'm sure it's just a client or something who—Oh."  
  


" _Oh_?" Bev is asking in his ear. "What kind of _oh_? Good _oh_? Bad _oh_? _Eddie_! Details!"  
  


Bev probably keeps going, but Eddie has all but blocked her out at this point, the elegant, crystal glass vase filled to the brim and overflowing with deep red carnations fully taking up all of his focus and attention.   
  


As he slips into the room, a pale pink ribbon wrapped around a thin point in the vase with a simple, heart-shaped card hanging from it catches his eye, and his fingers itch to grab it and see what is written inside.   
  


"Edward Kaspbrak, you answer me right now, you punk!"  
  


Eddie clears his throat, closing the door to his office gently behind him. "For fucks sake, Bev, I'm processing."  
  


"Process _faster_! Or at least out loud." Then, nosily, after a pause, "What is it?"  
  


"Uh, flowers," he mumbles, gently running his thumb and forefinger along one of the silky petals. "Red carnations."  
  


Bev pauses for a moment. "Carnations? Interesting choice for Valentine's Day. Who are they from?"  
  


Eddie reaches over and thumbs open the card, his breath hitching as he catches sight of the signature, the significance of Valentine _carnations_ suddenly clicking in his brain. "Richie," he answers in a squeak, blushing traitorously.   
  


Bev squeals. "Oh my god, I knew it!" she laughs victoriously, "He _loooves_ you."  
  


Eddie keeps skimming the card, his embarrassed expression slowly morphing to one of fond exasperation. "Not so fast," he tells her with a chuckle, memories flashing back from his teenage years so vividly he almost makes himself dizzy. "The card is actually _specifically_ addressed to my _mother_."  
  


" _What?_ Oh, _goddamnit_ , Richie," Bev moans. And Eddie can't help but laugh heartily as he reads the card once more, out loud this time, biting his lip to contain his grin.  
  


_"My dearest Sonia,_

_27 carnations; one for every year we spent apart (plus 9, because they would only let me order them in groups of a dozen, so yeah, deal with it). I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, you know you will forever be the only one for me._

_Love Always,  
_ _Richie ♥︎_

_P.S. Happy Valentine's Day, Eds. I hope these make you sneeze your dick off."  
  
_

Eddie can practically hear Bev roll her eyes through the phone, but she sighs in endearment anyway. "I will never understand you two," she tells him.  
  


And Eddie realizes, blissfully thinking back to the warmth and flutter he felt in his chest every year when Richie sent his _'mom'_ carnations, how there was always a little part of him that knew (or hoped, at least) what Richie was doing, that he doesn't need her to understand their weird, immature little rituals.  
  


They clearly understand each other just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! Happy (early) Valentine's Day! <3


End file.
